


Thicker Than Water

by alleinimmer



Series: How Did We Get Here? [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Endgame never happened, Hurt Peter, Infinity War never happened, Medical Inaccuracies, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 23:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19800058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleinimmer/pseuds/alleinimmer
Summary: After Peter comes home hurt from patrol one night, May calls Tony to tell him to take the Spider-Man suit back.





	Thicker Than Water

**Author's Note:**

> Back sooner than I thought!
> 
> Ok, just a couple things: 
> 
> As always, we're going to pretend like Infinity War and everything that follows never happened. This story is the official beginning of my series, and takes place a few weeks after the end of Homecoming, when May walks in and sees Peter in the Spider-Man suit and freaks out. Although Tony manages to convince her to let Peter continue as Spider-Man, but May's not entirely on board.

It's after midnight when Peter finally makes it home, exhausted and aching and just barely managing to haul himself through his open bedroom window and into his pitch-dark room. The climb up had been almost impossible, his muscles ripped and screaming and his fingers slick with blood, and it takes every ounce of willpower he’s got to keep himself from collapsing to the floor once he makes it inside. Even so, his legs give out from under him immediately, sending him crashing to the floor, and the silence is broken so suddenly and violently that it's almost offensive.  
Peter winced, gritting his teeth and expecting May to come bursting through his door at any moment, demanding to know where he’s been and if he had any idea what time it was, but a moment passed, and amazingly, nothing happened. Peter waited, not trusting his own luck, but after another moment had come and gone, it seemed that he was really off the hook, and he painfully straightened up, one arm wrapped tight around his abdomen. Determined not to make another sound, he took a single, silent step forward, and suddenly, his room was flooded with light. 

Peter yelped loudly and leapt backward, legs crumpling uselessly beneath him for a second time. He lands hard on his ass, looking wildly around. Across his room, May was sitting at his desk chair, waiting for him, her hand resting almost casually on his desk lamp and the look on her face absolutely thunderous. 

"How is it," She said slowly, looking less than impressed as Peter clenched his heaving chest, staring at her with wide eyes. "That you have no problem catching buses with your bare hands but somehow you can’t manage to answer your phone?”

"May!" Peter breathed. "May, I can explain-"

"Don't." She snapped, surging to her feet and beginning to pace around his room. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all night, Peter! Do you know how many times I texted you? How many times I called you? And you couldn’t even be bothered to answer me just once!" Peter stayed quiet, and instead just bit his lip as he watched her continue to move back and forth across his room. She wasn't looking at him. Her arms were up and she was making wild, vague gestures with her hands, something she had always done whenever she was excited, or furious. "Your curfew was an hour ago and you weren’t answering me! I have been worried sick about you, Peter! I didn't know where you were! I had no idea if you weren't answering me because you were getting beat to an inch of your life or if you had fallen off the Empire State Building or if you were dead in some alley! I had no idea if my fifteen year old kid was dead!" Her voice was getting higher and higher as she continued to rile herself up, all the while still refusing to look at him. "But I guess I was worried for nothing, right? Because evidently you weren’t dead in some alley, you were perfectly fine this whole time!"

"May-" Peter began, swallowing hard and hating how badly his voice wobbled. He hated that she could do that - that with a single, disappointed glance, she could reduce him so easily to tears. 

"I can’t believe I ever agreed to let you do this! If Ben knew what you were doing-” She stopped suddenly, her face twisting into the distant, lost look she got whenever she found herself thinking about Ben unexpectedly. But it was gone as fast as it had appeared. “You know what? I’m done! I can’t do this anymore! I’m calling Tony Stark first thing in the morning and I’m having him take your suit back. Spider-Man is done. And you are grounded until you're dead, you understand me?! If I have to spend one more moment wondering if I’m never going to see you again then I-IS THAT BLOOD?!" 

She had finally whirled around to face him, and the downright murderous look on her face melted away immediately once she managed to get a good look at him. Peter shifted slightly, looking away and gripping his bleeding side more tightly. "Um...no?"

"PETER BENJAMIN PARKER, I SWEAR TO GOD-!"

\--------

It was sometime around one in the morning when FRIDAY announced rather suddenly, "Boss, there’s an incoming call from May Parker."

Tony looked up from where he was welding two pieces of titanium together, glancing over at the clock in alarm when he realized just how late it was. If May was calling at this hour, it could only be for one reason. Expecting the worst, Tony heaved a sigh as he set his tools aside and pulled off his safety goggles. 

"Patch her through, FRI." He said, remembering the last phone call he had received from May a few weeks before and resigning himself to her undoubtable, incredible, unrivaled wrath. And sure enough, she didn’t disappoint. 

"STARK!" Tony couldn’t help but flinch at her tone. Yep. This was definitely regarding Peter.

"The one and only," He said, determined to stay smooth and calm despite his pounding heart and closing throat. "To what do I owe this particularly late pleasure, Mrs. Parker? At this hour I would certainly hope it's for pleasure-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Stark," She spat in response. "I need you to come by my apartment. Now." 

"You know, I don't know why you’re getting so huffy. You're the one calling and demanding that I come by your apartment in the middle of the night. I mean really, what am I supposed to think?"

"Maybe you should be thinking this involves Peter, you irresponsible dumbass!" She snarled, and he was glad she couldn't see him wince, "Remember him? The fifteen-year-old kid who goes running all over Queens in that ridiculous leotard that YOU gave him?"

At her words, Tony could swear he head a very faint, very indignant, 'It's not a leotard!' on the other end, but as May plowed on, and it was hard to say for sure. "Letting you step inside our apartment that day was without question the biggest mistake of my life - I should NEVER have let you into our home! My kid is bleeding because of you!" Tony jerked at that last bit, terror surging in his veins, but May's sudden, harsh sobs managed to help him hold it together. 

"May?" He almost snapped, "What’s going on? Is Peter hurt?"

"It's not that bad, Mr. Stark!" Peter suddenly interjected. His voice was a bit fainter than May's and not as clear, like he was calling out from across the room, but he sounded pretty normal, if maybe slightly out of breath, and Tony managed to breathe an enormous sigh of relief at the sound of his voice. 

"Peter, sit down and be quiet! And for God's sake, keep pressure on that!" May snapped, before she turned her attention back to Tony. "I need you to come by our apartment. Please. I-I need your help. He's bleeding and I can't get the suit off him." 

"What happened? Why’s he bleeding?" Tony demanded, wondering why he hadn't gotten an alert from Karen or FRIDAY that Peter had been hurt on patrol. Waving a hand over one of the holograms before him, he watched as the blueprints for his own suit vanished and were replaced with the stats log of Peter's. He frowned. According to the readings, there was absolutely nothing wrong with Peter at all - by all accounts, he was totally fine. 

Somehow, though, he doubted May was lying. Overreacting maybe, but this was a pretty big overreaction, even by her standards. So either there was something seriously wrong with Peter's suit, and Tony needed to run diagnostics on it ASAP, or....Tony sighed deeply, resisting the urge to growl. This goddamn kid. He was going to kill him. He waved his hand again, the holograms disappearing altogether, before he strode from the room, blood pounding in his ears.

"I don't know. He won't tell me." May told him, her voice wavering and unsteady. "He missed curfew so I was waiting up for him, and he came home covered in blood." She sniffled loudly. "You told me that suit was designed to keep him safe. That's the only reason I agreed to this - you promised me he'd be safe."

"He's supposed to be." Tony ground out, slamming his private suite’s doors open and charging inside, only to stop short at the sight of Happy, who appeared to be inspecting Tony’s kitchen windows, StarkPad in hand. “What are you doing?” He snapped, glaring at Happy as he half-turned to face him, looking completely unbothered, even annoyed, that Tony was interrupting him. 

“Security test.” He grunted, gesturing at one of the windows, as though it were obvious.

“It’s one in the morning.”

“So what? If someone is going to attack the Tower, you think they’re going to wait for a time when it’s convenient for you? No, they’re going to attack when we’re most vulnerable. I.E. now.”

“Happy, get out and go home.”

“Just as soon as I’m finished with this. Oh, and when you’ve got a minute I need to talk to you about the security measures we’re taking with the pigeons.”

“Last I checked we weren’t taking any fucking security measures against the fucking pigeons.” Tony snapped. “Because last I checked, they’re fucking pigeons.”

“They’re little winged rats is what they are.” Happy told him, scowling. “Have you seen the latest report from the CDC about the strain of bird flu they’re carrying this year? You really want to take a chance with that?”

“God, I don’t have time for this. Happy, I’m not completely rewriting FRIDAY’s coding just to include goddam pigeons.”

“Fine, be that way.” Happy said with a shrug, turning back the windows. 

Tony growled, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths before turning his attention back to his phone. “I’m on my way now, May.”

“Just hurry.” Was all she said before ending the call.

“Did you say May?” Happy asked suddenly, looking over at Tony with renewed interest. “As in May Parker?”

“That’s the one.” Tony said as he made his way toward the Tower’s deck, glancing back, confused, when he noticed Happy following him. “What’s it to you?” 

“Well, it’s just...you know I’ve met her once or twice and I’ve been thinking...if I’m going to be driving her nephew’s accident-prone, obnoxious ass around, I should really probably have her phone number.”

“You want May’s number.” Tony said slowly. 

“Well, yeah...for strictly professional reasons, of course. You know, in case there’s an emergency, or something.”

“Or something, more like.” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “Look, Hap, I’m in enough trouble with May as it is. Somehow I don’t think she’d appreciate it if I started handing her number out to strange men. So if you want to ask her out, you’re just gonna have to grow a pair and ask her yourself.”

“I don’t want to ask her out.” Happy sputtered. “I just think it’s the responsible thing to do.”

“Uh-huh. You better not be here when I get back. And you have to listen to me ‘cause I’m literally the boss of you.” 

“Not if I’m working after hours, you’re not. And if anything, I should be getting some kind of award for my dedication. I’m going above and beyond here.”

“I’m not rewarding paranoia.” Tony scoffed before activating his watch, the suit enveloping him immediately. “Don’t wait up, honey.” If Happy replied, Tony couldn’t hear him over the roar of his repulsors. 

\-----------------

The drive from downtown Manhattan to Queens was easily forty minutes by car on a good day. In his suit, Tony did it in ten. Even so, it felt like it had taken far too long to reach the Parkers’ apartment, and the moment he touched down on the ground and the suit melted away, Tony found himself pounding on their buzzer, which May answered immediately and without a word. By the time he had made it up the stairs (charging up two at a time and cursing the broken elevator as he went) and to the front door, he didn’t even bother to knock - just grabbed the door handle and shoved it open.  
Only to be met with a plate that came flying out of nowhere, and then shattered into a million pieces just inches from his face. Scowling, he jerked around, glaring at May who stood with tight lipped fury in her kitchen, meeting his gaze evenly and without a hint of remorse. 

“Really?” He snapped at her, but she ignored him, gesturing instead to the far, opposite corner of the apartment. Where, apparently, Peter had wedged himself up against the ceiling, knees tucked close to his chest, and one arm wrapped tight around his abdomen. His hair hung limp and damp with sweat, his lips were white and his face pale, but his eyes were wide and bright as he stared back at Tony. 

"Oh," He said softly, as though he hadn't believed Tony was really coming. "Hey."

"Hey yourself, kid," Tony replied, managing to keep his voice deceptively calm and even. "Little late to be reading your poor aunt the riot act, don't you think?" Peter looked away, the arm wound around his waist tightening minutely, but Tony wasn't about to let him off easy. “What, you’ve got nothing to say for yourself? Answer me.” He demanded.

"You're overreacting," Peter muttered.

"Excuse me?" Tony snapped at the same moment May shrieked, "What did you say?!" 

"I'm fine," Peter whined, shifting slightly and still refusing to look at either of them. "It's no big deal."

"If it's no big deal, then let me see," May snarled, moving closer. Peter shrank further into the corner in response. 

"No!" 

"Dammit, Peter!"

"Here, May," Tony sighed, and pressing his watch, the suit reassembled around him. He turned to Peter, the faceplate up so he could look Peter in the eye. "Last chance, kid. Either you can come down and take the suit off yourself or have me do it. Your choice."

Peter swallowed hard, staring at Tony with a look of absolute betrayal, but eventually, he dropped his head, and slowly climbed down. It was only when he was back on the ground that he raised his hand up to press the spider emblem on his chest. The suit instantly loosened, and Peter shrugged it halfway off. May looked over at Tony. 

"That's how you get it off? You push the spider?"

"Did I not tell you that last time?"

"No."

"Whoops." 

May looked less than amused, but thankfully turned back to Peter, striding forward and prying his arm out of the way. She didn't say a word, and Tony shifted anxiously, unable to see the damage from where he stood behind her. Peter, for his part, seemed to be keeping his eyes fixed resolutely on his own feet. 

"Alright," May broke the silence suddenly. "Go lay down on the couch."

"Why?" Peter challenged, sounding apprehensive. 

"Because I need to clean this up to see if you need stitches, that's why."

"What?! No!"

"Yes, Peter." May snapped. She then turned to look back at Tony. "Can you carry him over there?"

"I don't need to be carried!" Peter cried, his cheeks at last gaining a slight tinge of color as he stomped away from the corner and over to the couch. His arm was draped over his stomach again, and although Tony still couldn't see the full extent of the injury, there appeared to be both dried and fresh blood caked and running all down his side. Tony jolted at the sight, shocked by just how much Peter was bleeding, but Peter kept his eyes down, avoiding Tony's gaze as he sat himself on the couch. May let out a huff before she turned and walked back down the apartment's little hallway, no doubt to fetch the supplies she'd need to clean Peter up. 

"Keep the suit on," She told Tony as she passed him. "I might still need your help."

Tony just nodded, watching Peter's ears burn red at May's words, before circling around the couch and stopping directly in front of Peter, who still wasn’t looking at him. Tony crouched down. And Peter ducked his head. 

"Nope, we’re not doing that," Tony said, reaching out and tapping Peter’s chin. "Eyes up, kid. If you drag me out of bed and all the way over here you gotta at least look at me."

"You weren’t in bed." Peter mumbled, and rather than taking offense, Tony struggled to keep his lip from twitching in amusement. "And I didn't ask you to come over here."

"Yeah, well, guilty by extension. If you had just done what your aunt asked she wouldn't have called me."

"She's overreacting," Peter whined, looking away again.

"She's your aunt, kid. That's what she's supposed to do."

"It'll heal on its own in a few hours," Peter muttered, "I’m fine, Mr. Stark."

"Probably, but let’s not risk ruining the furniture in the meantime." Tony said with a shrug, looking over at May as she came marching back into the room with a little red box in her hands. "Uh, oh, kid, here we go."

Peter's head whipped around to look at May, with a look of such absolute misery that Tony briefly considered begging May to just let him go. The kid wasn’t wrong, after all, about his healing factor, but he bit his tongue when he saw the look on May's face. 

"Alright, lay down," She said, pushing Tony out of the way as she kneeled down on the floor beside the couch. Peter shot Tony one last pleading look, but when Tony shook his head, he sighed and slowly lowered himself until he was lying horizontal on the couch. Tony moved away, trying to give May room to work but staying close enough to jump in and help should she need it. He watched as May set her first aid kit on the nearby coffee table and popped it open, bandages, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, gauze, and what appeared to be surgical scissors inside. "Peter, take that damn suit off already."

"May!" Peter squeaked, his face going scarlet as he looked over at Tony, who merely raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Why so shy, Underoos? Please, for the love of God, don’t tell me you run around commando in that thing." Tony said sarcastically, and in response Peter choked on a high-pitched, strangled sound, but made no move to remove the suit. It was only when Tony leaned over and tugged at it that Peter finally moved, Tony's insistence seemingly jumpstarting him into action. He quickly shoved Tony's hands away to take over for himself, one hand still firmly clasped over his stomach as he shimmied and kicked the suit down his legs and off his feet. The one good thing about Peter's mortification, Tony supposed, watching the kid shiver in his boxers, was that it distracted him from noticing the little collection of medical supplies May had selected and laid out on the coffee table. It was only when she tipped the bottle of rubbing alcohol over a cotton ball that Peter finally looked round at May, staring at her with wide eyes, and Tony couldn’t help but feel sorry for the kid. 

“May-” He began, but May cut him off immediately. 

"Why don't you have Mr. Stark hold your hand?" She suggested, and both Peter and Tony sputter at her words. Tony, for one, did not sign up for this when he agreed to come over here, and does not appreciate May volunteering him for something like that without his permission. It’s not like he’s in any way qualified for something like that. Luckily, Peter seemed to agree. With a scowl that would have been hilarious in any other situation, Peter took his hands and shoved them into his armpits, clearly letting May and Tony know that he didn’t need to have his hand held, and immediately putting his wound on full display for Tony to finally see. He felt his stomach lurch at the sight. One thing he knew right away: May was not exaggerating. 

Peter's stomach was sliced open by a jagged gash, extending from one hip to directly below his belly button. It wasn’t that deep, and it wasn’t spraying blood Black Knight style like Tony half-expected, but it was definitely gushing, especially now that Peter's hands aren't there to hold it back. 

"Fuck!" Tony swears, jerking forward with horror to get a better look at it while Peter cringes away from him, blushing furiously. He’s seen Peter hurt before. He still remembers Peter laying limply on German tarmac quite vividly, in fact. He still occasionally dreams of pulling Peter from the depths of the Hudson River. The only difference is that in his dreams, Peter’s body remains slack and lifeless no matter how loud Tony screams and how hard he pounds Peter’s chest. And he knows that Peter didn’t walk away from his fight with the Vulture completely unscathed, despite the fact that when Tony saw him a few days later, he had been just fine. But this is the first time he’s seen Peter truly hurt, the first time he’s actually seen Peter bleed, and it scares him. 

“For God’s sake, Tony, calm down! You’re not helping.” May snapped, shoving him out of her way. “Peter, stop it. If you can’t cooperate and lay flat, I’m going to have to have Mr. Stark hold you down.” 

Peter hesitates for a moment longer, and then reluctantly uncurls himself, exposing his lacerated side once more, which May wastes no time disinfecting. The moment the alcohol soaked cotton ball touches him, Peter hisses, but he manages to hold still while May cleans him up. It’s not long before the cotton ball sags under the weight of the blood it’s absorbed, and May has to swap it out for another before she’s even properly begun. Tony watches her toss cotton ball after cotton ball aside, each growing progressively less crimson as she does, before she finally stops.

"I can’t do this anymore.” May blurts suddenly, her voice quaking as she tosses the last, soaked cotton ball aside. “I thought I could, but I can’t. Stark, I need you to take the suit back. Tonight. Spider-Man is done.”

“No-!”

“Yes, Peter! I’ve already lost my husband. I can’t just sit back and let you get yourself killed too.” She said, impatiently swiping her eyes before she bent over to better examine Peter’s side. “This really isn’t that deep.” She sniffled. “I think you’ll be okay with just a few butterfly bandages.”

Tony watched her, feeling sick, as she turned and riffled through the first aid kit. It took her a few moments to grasp one of the little packets, her hands were shaking so bad. “Mrs. Parker,” He said slowly.  
“With all due respect, Spider-Man is more than just the suit. Which is why I think you and I both know that taking it away from him won’t do any good.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” She snapped, finally ripping open the bandage. “Just send him on his way? Hope he comes back to me alive and in one piece?”

“May, I’m sorry, but that’s really all you can do.” Tony told her as gently as he could. 

“Yeah? And what are you supposed to do?” May asked coldly, glaring at him. “You told me that night that you could keep him safe. You promised me he’d be safe as long as he wore the suit.” 

“He is.” Tony snapped, losing patience. 

“Is he?” She asks bitingly. “Well, with all due respect, Mr. Stark, I think you’d be better off sticking to designing warheads.” She said, gesturing towards Peter’s bleeding side.

“Ouch.” He deadpanned. May ignored him, and instead secures the split edges of Peter’s skin with a butterfly bandage. Beneath her, Peter lies uncharacteristically quiet, but he’s staring at Tony with absolute terror. Tony can’t bear to look at him, not when he knows the kid has so much to lose tonight and is counting on Tony to save him. Because for how much faith Peter has in him, for how much faith he’s always had in him, Tony doesn’t know if he’ll be able to save him this time. But he knows he has to try. For Peter’s sake, at least. 

“May. I promise you that I’m doing everything I can to look out for him. I wasn’t lying to you before and I’m not lying to you now. But if that’s not enough for you, then consider me at your beck and call. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it. No hesitation, no questions asked. And I'm gonna hook you up with everything you need, alright? First thing tomorrow, er, today, I'm gonna get you set up with everything you need to hook you up to Peter's suit. Direct link to his AI, messaging and calls that he won't be able to ignore or block, tracking device-"

"Wait a minute!" Peter protested loudly, struggling to sit up only for May to reach out and push him back down. "That's not fair! Aren't I allowed, like, any privacy?"

"Alright, let me make something abundantly clear for you, kid: baby superheroes don’t get to run around New York City day or night, rain or shine, bike thieves or mass murderers without some kind of supervision. Got it?”

"But you already do all that stuff!" Peter protested.

"You already do what stuff?" May interjected suddenly, turning to look at Tony and eyeing him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"He spies on me all the time!" Peter whined, pointing at Tony accusingly. "He's got all these stupid protocols built into my suit that he didn't even tell me about, that he can access any time he wants!"

"Like what?"

"Like everything he just said!" Peter cried out dramatically. "He's got a tracker somewhere in there that I still can't find, and he can contact me anytime I'm in the suit whether I hit the ignore button or not, and he's got this altitude thing that tells him when I go above a certain height and this other one called the ‘Tattletale Protocol’ that's supposed to alert him if anyone comes at me with a gun or a knife-"

"I'm actually glad you brought that up, Pete," Tony growled suddenly. "Because it's funny, this is precisely the kind of thing I would normally get an alert about, but for some strange reason I had to rely on your charming aunt to tell me about your little run-in with the Hash-Slinging-Slasher. Any idea why that could be?" Peter's mouth fell open at Tony's words, but a moment later clamped tightly shut. Tony nudged him. "Hmm?"

"Well...I might have...um, had Ned...take a look at that..."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tony snarled. "I thought we'd covered this, Peter! You and your dipshit friend have no business sticking your grubby, dipshit hands anywhere near your suit's coding! I put those in there for a reason! Do you think I spend hours and hours writing codes for you for fun?! No! Those are there to keep you safe! Why is that so hard for you to understand?!"

"If it's not for fun then why did you have to name it the "Baby Monitor Protocol?"

"PETER!" Tony roared, frustration reaching an all-time high, and Peter flinched back, glancing at May for support, who had been strangely silent during his and Tony's argument. She was staring at Tony, and her expression was oddly blank and distant. Tony wasn't sure he liked it, and he shifted ever so slightly as May stared wordlessly at him, forcing himself to meet her gaze boldly. 

"Something wrong, Mrs. Parker?"

"No." She said vaguely, sounding civil for the first time all night. "No, everything's fine."

Tony hesitated for a moment, waiting for her to change her mind at the last second, but when she made no move to stop him, he turned back to Peter again. "I'll call the protocols whatever I damn well please. And I can personally guarantee you that I will be reworking the Tattletale Protocol so deep that you and your little friend won't ever be able to find it and disable it again. Got it?" Peter merely nodded, looking miserable. Tony sniffed. “Wonderful. And who knows? Maybe if you’re extra good, I’ll even consider changing the system name to ‘Peter, Quit Touching My Stuff’. If that doesn’t make you happy, I don’t know what will.” 

Peter wasn’t looking at him. At some point, his attention had shifted from Tony to the ceiling, and he was blinking hard and fast as he stared at it. Tony heaved a sigh, watching as May began to scrub the dried blood from his body and his scowl slowly melting away. This is the second time now he’s made Peter cry, or come close to it anyway, and he can honestly say he’s never felt like more of an asshole. And yeah, you could probably argue that he was crying because May was now smearing his side with antibiotic cream and no doubt tugging at the tender skin as she did, but Tony's own childhood had been defined by swallowing his own misery and tears. He knew what it looked like, and it killed him to see Peter do the same. Especially when it was because of him. It was strange - his father had hated it when he cried, and done everything in his power to make sure he knew it, whether by a raised voice or a flying tumbler. Looking at Peter now, looking so miserable and heartbroken and wanting nothing more on earth than to make it stop, Tony couldn’t help but wonder why his father had only ever felt disgust and hatred when he had caught him crying, when all he felt was self-loathing and regret.

God, he was in way over his head with this one. He was, without question, the last person who should be having this conversation with Peter. But he knows that this is important - that this might be the most important conversation they ever have. Which is why he can’t screw this up. That as much as he wants to, he can’t be a sarcastic asshole and that he can’t hide behind deflection this time. He knows Peter’s counting on him to say the right thing. But the problem is that he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing or what to say to Peter, and the last thing he wanted was to screw up this amazing, bright, damn-near obnoxiously good kid. He doesn’t know what Peter needs to hear...but he knows what he had wished his father had said to him...what he had once needed to hear. And it’s the best he’s got, so that’s what he’s gonna go with. 

"Look, Pete, I get it, okay? I get why this is so important to you. There’s no one here who understands that more than me. And I know you're going to do whatever it takes to help people because that's just who you are, and there's nothing I can do to stop you. I’ve already tried. So all I can do is build you a suit to protect you and help you out as best I can. Because that’s my job - I’m responsible for you, kid. And I’m going to support you until you don’t need me anymore. But at the end of the day, the most important thing that you need to do is make sure you come home to your aunt." Both Peter and May's heads whipped around to stare at Tony, who pretended to be unfazed by the sudden attention. "That woman right there?" He jerked his head toward May, still kneeling quietly on the floor beside him. "She comes before anyone and everyone else, okay? She comes before bank robbers, and car jackers, lost puppies, and whatever the hell else you come across on patrol because you come before everything else for her. And that’s why you have to do everything you can to make it home to her. You have to give her that. You get that, right?"

Peter remained silent, but he nodded quickly, his eyes wide and fixed unblinkingly on Tony. He could feel May's eyes on him too, but he chose to ignore her, instead focusing all of his attention on Peter. Tony may have hated everything about this entire situation with everything he had. He may not have known what he was doing or what the right thing to say was. But if there was one thing he did know, it was that Tony wasn’t going to be Howard. He wasn't going to scream at Peter until the kid was left ripped open and raw from his words and then disappear for days at a time. He wasn't going to make Peter think he was incapable of doing anything right or that he was nothing but a disappointment to Tony. Because even now with Peter's abdomen barely held together with a handful of butterfly bandages, Tony couldn't squash the swell of pride he felt for him. Because...Peter was amazing. And one day he’d surpass Tony in every way. And until that day came, Tony was going to do whatever he had to do to help the kid. The suit had been a good start, but between the fight at the airport, the Vulture fiasco, and now this, Tony was beginning to realize that despite his best efforts, there were a few things he had overlooked in the original design. But with the suit ripped as bad as it was, it was the perfect excuse to add a few additional features to it. 

He glanced at his watch. It was just past two in the morning, and he had reached his emotional limits for the night quite a while ago. Tony pushed himself to his feet, thoughts spinning with different ideas and already beginning to map out the coding he would need to set up to get them started. 

"Well, this has been fun." He said. "But I have a shareholder’s meeting in...six hours. Not to mention a multimillion dollar supersuit to fix." He grabbed Peter's suit from where it had tossed it aside. "I can have this fixed in a day, but you know, I've just been so inspired by your lack of self-preservation that I think I'm going to add a few more protocols to fix that." Peter just groaned in response, and Tony grinned sarcastically. "And you can bet your spandexed ass that you'll wish you never complained about the Baby Monitor or Tattletale protocols, kid. What I've got in mind is going to make them look like I was doing you a favor." 

Peter covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly again in protest. Tony chuckled at his frustrated embarrassment.

“You free next Friday, kid?”

Peter peeked at him through his fingers. “Um...Yeah.” He admitted hesitatingly.

“Your confidence is truly inspiring.”

“Yes, I’m free.” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’re gonna help me fix your suit.”

“I’m...wait, what?”

“May, you ever think about getting your kid’s hearing tested?”

“All the time.”

“This isn’t funny! Mr. Stark, what do you mean I’m gonna help you fix my suit?”

“Exactly that. I told you the suit belongs to you, kid, and I meant it. Now, having your own super-suit is a big responsibility-”

“Holy shit are you serious-?!”

“-Which is why,” Tony said loudly, “Happy’s gonna be bringing you by my lab after school once a week until-”

“Oh my god-!”

“-Until I feel you have everything you need to make it on your own.”

“Oh you are, are you?” May asked testily, crossing her arms and raising a single, unimpressed eyebrow at him. 

“With your permission, of course, Mrs. Parker.” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

May was quiet for a moment. “Fine.” She sighed at last.

“YES!”

“Kid. Please don’t make me regret this.” Tony sighed, shaking his head before turning towards May ang giving her a single, sarcastic nod. "May. Always a pleasure...visually, anyway." Tony said before turning toward the door. 

"Tony, wait a minute!" May scrambled up and darted after him. "Let me walk you to the door."

Tony couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at her. The door was literally fifteen feet away. But...whatever. Her house, her rules, he supposed. So he waited for her to reach him before falling into step beside her. From the couch, Peter watched them suspiciously, but called out a soft, "Bye, Mr. Stark." 

"Bye, kid." He called back. "I know I’m wasting my breath when I say this, but be good."

He thought he caught Peter rolling his eyes, but then May was opening the door and pulling him out into the hallway before he really got a good look at him. Once outside, she quietly closed the door behind them, and she snatched Tony's arm before he could so much as think to step away. Tony was sure she felt him stiffen at her touch, but she ignored it.

"Was all of that true?" She whispered conspiringly. Tony hesitated. He could see where this was going, and he wanted nothing to do with it. 

"Was all what true?" He countered, trying to sound bored and disinterested. He really should have known that May wouldn’t have fallen for it. 

"The...protocol things that you and Peter were talking about." She said quietly. It made him nervous how patient she was being with him. "Do you really have a whole system in Peter's suit that lets you watch out for him and check on him whenever he's in trouble?"

Tony couldn't help but bristle. "I can check on him whenever I want, not just when he's in trouble." He clarified, wincing at the admission, but decided he at least owed May an honest answer. "And yes, I have a whole series of programs built into the suit that I can access at any time. I can see his vital signs, his location, I can tap into the cameras and audio feed, I can text him or call him and I can force him to answer me if I want. I thought I told you all that."

"All you said was that the suit was designed to keep him safe. You didn’t say anything about how...involved you are with all this. That you were actually watching out for him and checking up on him." 

"Oh. Well. Better late than never." He answered lamely. "And, May, I promise, I'm going to rewrite the protocols and fix the ones Peter disabled. And I'm going to make it so you have access to all of that as well. "

"No, that's okay."

Tony was taken aback. "No?"

“No.”

“Wow, what is it with you Parkers and turning down once-in-a-lifetime offers?”

“I mean, I would appreciate it if you could make it so that I can send a text directly to the suit and make him answer me or if he’s seriously hurt while he’s on patrol, but that’s all I need. I think one helicopter parent is more than enough, don't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Tony snapped, and glared when May's lips twisted into a smirk. "I'm not being a helicopter parent."

"Sure you're not." She answered, her tone downright patronizing and all but dripping with sarcasm. 

“Trust me, May,” He told her, scowling. “I’m the last person who’s qualified to be any kind of parent.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” May said, studying him closely. She hesitated for a moment before she continued. "You know that Peter adores you right?"

"No, really? I had no idea." 

"And you're good for him." 

"Good for him?" Tony repeated incredulously. "May, your kid wouldn't be here if it weren't for me."

"It’s like you said, Tony. Peter would be here whether it was with your blessing or not." She sighed. "I’ve seen those ridiculous sweats he was running around in before he met you, and he would have kept running around in them if you two hadn't met. It's just who he is." She looked at him with a hard, intense look. "You went above and beyond to try and keep him safe. And I didn’t even have to ask you to - you did that on your own. I owe you everything for that."

"You don't owe me anything," Tony was quick to counter, anxiety now buzzing dangerously close to the surface at the thought that May believed she should be thanking him for what he'd done. 

"I do. You have no idea what having you in his life has done for him."

Tony got the sense that they weren't just talking about the Spider-Man suit anymore, and were encroaching dangerously close to the darker, more tragic parts of Peter’s life that Tony did his level best to avoid. Parts that Tony knew they would inevitably discuss one day. He shifted again for what felt like the millionth time that night, but May didn't elaborate, and instead, she merely smiled softly at him. "Good night, Mr. Stark. And thank you again."

"Good night, Mrs. Parker," Tony sighed, deciding it was a waste of time to insist she had no reason to be thanking him. "I'll be in touch."

"Good to know." She told him, before nodding to him and disappearing back into her apartment. Tony waited for a moment, listening to the muted sounds of May moving around and her and Peter's voices. 

"Come on, Peter, you need to go to bed."

"What were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing, honey, I was just walking him out."

"Maaayyyy-"

Tony turned away and began to slowly make his way down the stairs, thoughts whirling. Yep, he was officially in way over his head. He had been for a while when it came to the Parkers, but tonight it felt as if something significant had happened. Something had changed, though Tony couldn't quite place his finger on exactly what it was. He had felt responsible for Peter's safety long before tonight. Hell, he'd felt responsible for him from the moment he'd actually laid eyes on the fourteen year old kid who had decided he was going to be Queens' sole protector. And May had known about Peter's alter-ego and Tony's involvement for a few weeks now, ever since she had walked in on Peter in his suit and had called Tony, screaming. That had been another late night, one in which May paced, shouted, and cried, punctuated by Peter gesticulating wildly, pleading, and coming close to tears himself, and Tony, dangerously close to a panic attack the entire time he was there. Maybe the difference was that before, when they had reached a shaky agreement, they had departed with May eyeing him suspiciously and distrustfully. And Tony had been fine with that. Few people regarded him as trustworthy. No, he was far more comfortable hiding behind the facade of the heartless, arrogant businessman that the world knew him to be, than to actually let someone know just how much he truly cared.  
But Peter had never once been fooled by the act. And now, apparently, May was in on the secret as well. Now, she had irrefutable proof that Tony did care about her kid, and was willing to go above and beyond to keep him safe. Which meant that there was one more person in the world who knew that Peter was one of his weak spots. Yes, something had changed tonight. The stakes were raised. Because now, if May decided to forbid Tony from coming around or even seeing Peter again, if she decided to take Peter away from him, she would know just how badly it would hurt Tony to lose the kid. 

With this realization, Tony had to stop for a moment as he took several deep, deliberate breaths. Yes, the stakes were higher. Yes, May now knew just how much he cared about her kid. And yes, she was one more person in the world who could really, truly hurt him if she wanted to. But Tony had gone up against people who had hurt him before, and had managed to survive each one. Howard. Stane. Steve. He closed his eyes. This was just one more battle he had to fight. And he wanted to fight it. He wanted to keep Peter in his life. He was hands-down the most frustrating, annoying, ulcer-inducing part of it, but the thought of having to say goodbye to him was simply unbearable. So. If he had to fight to keep Peter a part of his life, he would, and he would do so with everything he had. 

So with one last deep breath, Tony squared his shoulders and once more activated his armour, sparing the Parker’s lit window one last, fond glance, before launching himself into the air. This kid was going to be the end of him, he knew it.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's part 1. 
> 
> I have two more stories written up, but both still need to be edited/rewritten, but I'm thinking about fixing a few things from "What Would It Take" before I start working on those. 
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think!


End file.
